


Better Than Warm Milk

by eeyore9990



Series: 30 Thankful Days [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Desk Sex, F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 02:33:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5147057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/pseuds/eeyore9990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris is up late working on business when Lydia interrupts for something a little more personal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Than Warm Milk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DizzilySpiraling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzilySpiraling/gifts).



> 30 Thankful Days, Day 4: Gift for DizzilySpiraling

Chris pressed his fingers to his forehead, glancing at the clock and cursing quietly when he saw that midnight had come and gone. The light from his desk lamp cut across the paperwork spread out on its surface, reminding him that he had at least another hour of work to complete before he could seek his bed. A scratching at the door drew his attention then and he looked up, a faint sense of surprise pushing through his exhaustion. 

Framed in his office doorway was Allison’s friend, Lydia, who’d spent more time in the Argent household than her own since the two had graduated high school the previous summer. 

Lowering his hands to the arms of his chair in preparation for standing, Chris only stilled when she shook her head, a small smile curving her generous lips. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said, stepping lightly into the room, walking around its edges as she trailed her fingers lightly over everything in reach. Her eyes were cast down, ostensibly looking at the things she was touching, but there was something about her posture that told Chris all of her attention was focused solely on _him._

Was she nervous? Chris cast about, trying to think of something to say to a girl like her to put her at her ease. “Would you like some milk?” he asked, then felt his face fall into blank lines as he mentally castigated himself for the utter idiocy of the question. She wasn’t a toddler to be soothed back to sleep by the promise of warm milk. Not that he should offer her anything stronger to help her sleep, but she was an adult… 

Lydia glanced up at him from under her lashes, and he could see the way her straight white teeth were pressing into her lush bottom lip, likely to stifle a bubble of laughter. She lifted her shoulder at him, the move causing the strap of her short satiny top to slip a little sideways. The tiny shorts that went with the top flared a bit at the thigh when she spun toward him on her tip toes, staring at him straight on. “Why are _you_ awake?” she asked, lifting her hands to gather her long hair into one fist so she could pull it around in front of her. Her fingers gently stroked through the curling strands as she walked toward him, her steps light and purposeful, her pink toes standing out in sharp contrast to the dark blue of the area rug that took up most of the floor. 

Dragging his eyes away from where they were contemplating her tiny feet, and the way she walked on them like a cat stalking a mouse, he stared down at the paperwork spread across his desk and blinked. “Inventory,” he said, though he was fairly certain it was a complete lie. He simply couldn’t admit to this girl, this young woman who was almost exactly two months older than his _daughter_ , that the sight of her wandering around his office in tiny little scraps of creamy satin had so thoroughly captivated him that he couldn’t actually remember what he was working on. 

But Lydia tilted her head, her eyes flashing over the documents for a second before she laughed quietly, a deeper sound than he expected. It was sultry, beckoning him to join her in the joke. “Looks like stockholder reports, actually.” 

When he looked up at her in surprise – as much startled by how _close_ she suddenly was than by the fact that she knew with a glance that the papers were, indeed, stockholder reports – she shrugged lightly and lifted a finger to tap him on the nose as she propped her hip on his desk, her foot swinging idly to brush against the side of his calf. “You’re not the only one who owns a company with international holdings in this town, _Mr Argent_.” 

The way she said his name should have been like a dash of cold water, should have reminded him of her extreme youth, but instead it stoked to flame the embers of arousal that had been ignited by her mere presence. Her presence in his house, under his roof, her perfume lingering in every nook and cranny to tease at his senses. Long strands of her hair curling innocently on his chair in the living room or on his coat or _his pillow_ that made him pause, made him stare and _want_ and it was wrong. He knew it was wrong, but that knowledge somehow made the arousal burn hotter, brighter. 

He wanted her, and he was growing tired of denying himself. 

“Do you enjoy paperwork, Miss Martin?” he asked. 

Lydia laughed again, her foot ceasing its teasing swaying as she curled her toes into the material of his jeans. “I prefer the more _personal_ aspects of business, actually. Meetings, negotiations… I like to look into a person’s eyes when I take them apart.” 

Her bottom lip glinted in the light, drew his gaze and made him unconsciously wet his own lips. “Business? That sounds far more personal.” 

Lydia leaned forward, moving hypnotizingly slow, and waited until her hair spilled soft and fragrant into his lap before she murmured with a wicked little grin, “Come now, Mr. Argent, you and I both know we haven’t really been talking about business.” 

His fingers tightened on the arms of his chair, and it was then that he realized he’d been holding onto them since he first looked up and saw her, a tantalizing vision in his doorway. His downfall. 

Deciding that he’d allowed her to control the situation far too long, Chris struck first. His hands came off the armrests of his chair, gripping her hips tight as he stood, looming over her more petite form even as he levered her back completely onto the top of his desk, shoving the paperwork to the floor as he did so. 

Another low laugh spilled from Lydia’s lips, even as she arched her back enticingly. Her chuckles died to a low humming noise when Chris lowered his head to her breast, closing his teeth punishingly over the nipple tenting the cloth of her nightie. As he tugged and sucked on her nipple, he slipped the little shorts down over her ass, abandoning them somewhere around her knee and allowing her to wriggle them down the rest of the way. 

Her fingers speared into his hair, gripping and tugging until he released her breast and lifted his head, raising an eyebrow at her. “Come up here,” she ordered imperiously, wrapping her legs around his waist and tugging with those as well. 

Giving in, he shifted forward, enjoying the feel of her wrapped around and laid out below him. He dragged his scruff-covered chin over her pale throat, just to hear her breath catch in her throat and come out on a bubbling moan. “Kiss me,” she hissed, as he nipped at her skin. 

“I’m not one of your puppies,” he murmured against the curve of her jaw, “that you can order around and expect me to blindly obey.” 

Her nails went sharp against his skull, scratching at him as she tried to force the issue. 

“You may be a princess everywhere else, but not here. Not in _my_ house.” 

The way she shivered at his low, menacing tone made him hitch his hips forward, grinding his denim-covered erection right against the damp heat of her. 

“If you want something from me,” he whispered hotly, biting the lobe of her ear, “you ask _nicely._ ” 

“Please,” she gasped, arching and writhing. “ _Please!_ ” 

“Very good,” he murmured right against her lips before he ducked down the rest of the way and met her open, panting mouth with his own. He kept up a slow, rolling motion with his hips as he licked into her mouth, tasting her, swallowing down the delicious sounds she made as he moved against her. His hands came up, cupping and kneading her breasts, shifting the satin of her top over her diamond-hard nipples. 

Her fingers left his already-mussed hair to tug at his shirt, stopping occasionally to grasp at his arms every time he did something new to overwhelm her tightly-strung senses. He broke the kiss long enough to allow her to rip his shirt over his head and fling it away, plunging the room into near-darkness as the dark cloth fell over his desk lamp. Her nimble fingers went straight to his jeans, then, her perfect mouth forming words that stripped the last of his control. 

“I want to taste you. Please, Mr. Argent, please let me…” 

And then she was unwinding her legs from around his waist and pushing him back, slithering off the desk as he stumbled, tripping back into his chair so hard it rolled a few feet until it hit the wall. The predatory smile was back on her face then, and she stalked toward him on hands and knees before crawling halfway up into his lap, sinking her teeth into his own nipple and tugging in an imitation of his earlier actions. 

“I can’t wait to get you in my mouth,” she mumbled, the words nearly lost with how quietly they’d been spoken. Her fingers left no question as to which bit of him she longed to taste, cupping and squeezing his dick until he thought he’d go blind from the teasing pleasure. 

Knocking her hands away, he deftly unbuttoned and unzipped, jerking the cloth open and pushing it down his thighs until his dick popped free, springing rudely up before hanging flat and heavy against his lower belly. A low moan split the air just before she opened her mouth over him, wet and heat and _suction_ nearly driving him straight out of his mind. 

It had been so long since he’d felt this; even while his wife had been alive, blow jobs had been few and far between, mostly conserved for nights when he’d gone hunting and she’d felt the thrill of bloodlust. And even then it had been less than enjoyable, too much teeth and not enough pressure. 

But this? This was perfect. It was exactly right, her tongue as quick on his flesh as it was with words. She paid attention to the head and took him down to the place her hand was wrapped around him, squeezing and stroking in perfect tandem to the motions of her mouth. When he couldn’t take any more, when he was sure one more clever twist of her mouth would send him shooting straight down her throat, he wound his hands in her hair and gently tugged her away, pulling until she had to release him. 

Lifting her away was almost worse, though, because he could see in her half-lidded eyes how lost she’d been in the moment. Her lips, already plush and full, were red and puffy now, swollen from her ministrations. And the corners were shiny, her tongue darting out to lick up the moisture. She whimpered softly, the glazed look in her eyes starting to burn away into one of irritation that she’d been interrupted, so he ducked forward, stopping her protests with his mouth. 

Once she was gripping at his shoulders again, he stood, lifting her and shuffling forward until he could deposit her on the desk once more. Breaking away from her, he jerked open his desk drawers, rooting around in them until he found three not-quite-expired condoms. With a breath of relief, he ripped the foil off the top one, not even bothering to separate it from the others. 

He was about to unroll it onto his dick when her hands came up, stopping him and taking over. Instead of moving quickly and efficiently, however, she turned it into another drawn-out tease, hands squeezing and sliding far more than necessary as his stomach muscles bunched and twitched. 

When he could stand no more, he caught both of her hands, shifting her wrists into one of his hands and lifting them above her head. Looking down, he frowned to see that her top was still on, shielding part of her from his gaze. He reached down and rectified that situation, mouth going dry as she was finally completely bared before him, her pale breasts rising proud and firm, their tips a dusky rose that called to him. 

Shaking his head to clear away the sudden daze he’d fallen into, Chris parted her thighs and moved between them, fitting himself to her and sliding inside easily, watching as a red flush spread up her chest and throat and spilled warm color into her cheeks. She keened, high pitched and wild, her back arching so high off the desk that when she collapsed back, he could hear the smack of flesh against wood. “More,” she choked out, eyes fluttering open from where they’d fallen shut at his first thrust. “More!” 

Lifting her legs until they were hooked over his shoulders, he reached down and hauled her back until her ass was hanging off the desk, leaving it free for him to smack with the flat of his hand. “I told you,” he growled, pulling back and thrusting in so hard and fast that it knocked another sharp cry from her, “I’m not one of your puppies.” 

“Please, please,” she whimpered, hands opening and closing above her head as she tossed it back and forth. “Please!” 

He smacked her ass again, but made the next thrust slow and calculated, made sure she would be able to feel every thick inch of him. Her reaction was perfect; she writhed and moaned, hands finally twisting until she could grip the far side of his desk. Her ass wriggled against him, so he smacked it again just to watch her eyes roll under the thin skin of her eyelids. 

He stopped teasing then and gripped her thighs, using his hold as leverage as he began to piston in and out of her, driving her closer and closer to an edge she’d never reach from penetration alone. When her pleased cries shifted into frustrated sobs, he lowered his hand to her belly and spread his thumb down, easing through her curls until he felt the swollen nub of her clit. The callouses on his thumb, he knew from experience, were perfect for this. 

In seconds, she was curling into a ball, her legs slipping off his shoulders as she drew her knees into her chest, keening and shaking as she clenched rhythmically around him, her orgasm leaving her splotchy and red and gasping. Watching her come undone was so captivating that he nearly missed the signs of his own pending orgasm, but he was able to pull out in time to rip the condom away and stroke himself to completion over her perfect, sweat-damp breasts. 

Leaning his elbows on either side of her, he pressed close and covered her mouth with his, kissing her gently through the shivers that continued to wrack her. Lifting one hand, he dragged it down again, petting between her thighs almost questioningly – he knew some women were too sensitive after coming to want to be touched too soon. She catted up into the touch though, nearly purring in satisfaction as he worked her to a second, gentler orgasm. 

“Mmm,” she murmured against his lips, elbow lazily flung around neck. “That was wonderful. Much better than warm milk.” 


End file.
